


A (Dis)grace to the Nation

by Pippinpaddleopsicopolis (Barnable)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Coming Out, Gay Zuko (Avatar), Gen, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Not Beta Read, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, POV Zuko (Avatar), Self-Acceptance, Zuko (Avatar)-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 10:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25349554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barnable/pseuds/Pippinpaddleopsicopolis
Summary: For his entire life, Zuko believed that he was not allowed to like boys. His friends don't agree.(Or, five times someone told Zuko it wasn't okay, and one time someone told him that it was.)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 779
Collections: why im sleep deprived 💖✨





	A (Dis)grace to the Nation

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by https://miamitu-illust.tumblr.com/post/623654807357587456/hes-a-little-confused-but-hes-got-the-spirit.

He was seven years old the first time someone told him it was wrong.

Up until that point, Zuko had no concept of romantic love. His mother loved him, his uncle loved him, and he was fairly sure his father did too. But he was just a child, young and innocent, and he didn’t know what it meant to be in love, nor even to harbor a crush. So, when his tutor requested that all the students write out letters for someone they cared about for a festival, he wrote his for a friend. Ironically, he couldn’t remember that friend’s name anymore, but he remembered that it was a boy. He remembered that he had short dark hair and bright yellow eyes that shone when they played in the courtyard. He remembered that he had a smile that lit up the world and a laugh that could make Zuko grin on even the hardest of days. He remembered that he had the fiercest temper and the harshest words which stuck with the Prince for the next decade of his life.

“Why would you want to give your letter to a _boy_?”

Zuko frowned when his tutor asked the question, puzzled as to why she was speaking in such a strange tone. It was like she was upset or angry, but all he’d done was exactly what she asked of him. The task was to write a letter to a classmate you were fond of. Zuko was fond of his friend. But the way she asked the question, the way she looked at him as if he were something to be shamed or punished, made him wonder whether he’d done something wrong. His hands shook violently, his breath catching in his throat. It wasn’t a healthy response to anger, but he didn’t know that until years later when someone finally sat him down and told him that the way his father treated him was abusive. That he shouldn’t expect that behavior from anyone, and he’d been conditioned in a way that was toxic. Knowing none of those things, Zuko simply bit his lip, hesitating before he answered.

“You said to write a letter to a classmate I care about,” he said quietly. He twisted his robes around in his fingers, hoping that his tutor wouldn’t be mad. “He’s my friend. I care about him.”

“But you can’t write a letter like this to a boy.” Her tone was filled with disgust, and she spat at him in a way that he would never forget. “This festival is a night of romance, Prince Zuko, and you cannot send a romantic letter to another boy. There is no way you’re giving this to anyone. You need to write a new letter before the festival, or I’ll be forced to inform your parents.”

There was no greater threat and that was likely the reason she said it. Though he knew his father loved him, Zuko also knew that he was seen in the eyes of Ozai as a disappointment and a failure because it took him too long to learn how to bend even the tiniest of flames. Because he spent too much time playing with the turtle ducks instead of attending to his sacred duties. Because he laughed and smiled with his mother more than he should have. Just the idea alone of having to face his father’s wrath was enough to convince Zuko to do as he was told. He took a deep breath.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Zuko spent the better part of his evening writing a new letter. He chose a random girl from his class, not really caring who it was but knowing he didn’t have a choice but to pick one of them instead of his friend. His mother helped him write the letter and made sure it was sweet and caring which he appreciated because writing to a random girl wasn’t as easy as writing to someone he knew well and without her help, he would’ve continued to write nothing but failed drafts for hours before settling on the lamest of words. The ones he did write lacked any true meaning, but they were friendly, and his mother assured him that the girl he chose would like it. He didn’t tell her about the first letter.

When the night of the festival arrived, young Zuko made a bold decision. He gave the girl his letter and made his teacher happy, but he also kept the first one he’d written. The one he _really_ wanted to give to his friend. So, Zuko waited until the perfect moment to speak to the boy. He pulled him aside when no one was looking, hiding behind one of the booths. The other boy was confused but since they were friends didn’t think a whole lot of it. Zuko was nervous but wanted nothing more than to give him the letter, the _real_ letter, so he glanced over his shoulder, ensured that his tutor was nowhere around, and bit down on his lip as he finally passed the note to his friend.

The look of disgust on his face was instant and there was no part of the Fire Prince that understood why he made it. Though he would eventually forget the name of his old friend, Zuko would never forget the expression in his eyes after he realized what he was reading. After he read Zuko’s heartfelt words and it hit him that a _boy_ was giving him a letter of affection. He forgot the name of the boy, but he could never forget how it felt when his soft hands shoved into Zuko’s shoulders, knocking him onto the cobblestone path. He forgot the name of the boy but nothing would ever erase the feeling of pain and guilt that pounded in his chest when he ran away, leaving the young prince on the ground; tears in his eyes as he watched him disappear, reaching out to grab the sheet of paper the boy left behind.

Zuko let it go up in flames.

* * *

He was nine years old the second time someone told him it was wrong.

It was by far the scariest out of every time when his father lectured him on what was acceptable not only as Fire Nation royalty, but as a citizen in the nation. The whole thing started because Ozai was not pleased with his recent behavior, as he believed Zuko to be acting “too childish” given his position in society, but quickly devolved into telling him off for all the things that were wrong with him and how he was expected to fix them. It was on that day that everything Zuko already knew was drilled into him forever. He wasn’t smart enough. He wasn’t strong enough. He wasn’t a good enough bender. And above all else, Ozai made him aware that he heard what Zuko did, how he’d given a _boy_ his letter of affection, and made it clear that to act on that behavior again would result in severe punishment.

Only on that day did Zuko finally understand what he did wrong. What ended his first and only friendship in such a horrible way. Boys were only supposed to like girls, Ozai told him, and when he was older he was expected to find a wife and have children the way his parents had before him. For a man to be with another man would be an act so disgusting Zuko could find himself banished for partaking in it, whether he was the prince of the nation or not. Zuko wanted to ask _why_ it was so bad, what was so wrong with it that he couldn’t even write what he thought was an innocent letter to a friend, but he wouldn’t dare open his mouth for fear of being punished even further. Instead, he simply stood there on his knees and listened as his father told him off for things he’d never done. As he threatened him with words that Zuko could never forget.

“If you _ever_ act inappropriately towards another boy, you will never see your mother or the Fire Nation again.”

Needless to say, the young prince vowed to never do anything with a boy again, even if he thought it was something innocent like writing a letter. He wouldn’t stop, he wouldn’t stare, he would just keep his distance and smother any feelings he might have had. It was hard to think about and even harder to do, even as a child, but he was so terrified of what could happen if he broke his father’s rules that Zuko wouldn’t even dare to remember what would happen if he acted on those horrible urges. The ones that were more than friendly. The ones that he wasn’t supposed to have for anyone but girls and yet which he’d yet to have towards anyone but the pretty boy who shoved him to the ground.

Admittedly, there was a part of Zuko that thought his mother would tell him it was okay. That she would reassure him and let him know that his father was wrong as she so often did. As he lay in bed that evening, unable to stop himself from shaking as he succumbed to the tears in his eyes, Zuko waited for his mother to find him. To kiss his forehead and say goodnight as she did every single evening. When she finally knocked on the door and strode in, she rushed to his side; clearly terrified for her poor, sobbing son. Zuko sank into her hug immediately, quickly reassured by her warm grasp. At first, all she did was reassure him that it was okay, and he thought it was true but then she asked what happened and when he told her, everything changed.

“Listen to me, dear Zuko,” she said quietly, pushing a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “I could never hate you. You mean the world to me and no matter what happens, no matter what you do, I will always love you. But you must listen to your father. There is a reason he doesn’t want you to feel that way about boys. You’ll understand when you get older but for now, you must promise me that you will never openly show affection for a boy again.”

Zuko felt sick to his stomach. If even his own _mother_ couldn’t support him in this situation, then liking boys must have truly been a crime. He still didn’t understand _why_ it was wrong and he despised the fact that his mother wouldn’t explain until he was older but accepted that it was something he could never do. He stared down at his hands for a long moment before he looked up to meet his mother’s gaze, nodding slowly.

“I promise, Mother.”

* * *

He was twelve years old the third time someone told him it was wrong.

Azula was a bully and he knew that better than anyone. She shouted at him, manipulated him, and tricked him into doing all kinds of stupid and gross things. Even their own mother seemed to think of her as a monster before she disappeared and if that didn’t prove that she was, Zuko didn’t know what would. But there was something about her that stopped him from ever standing up for himself when she did those things. There was something about the way she spoke that shook him to his core and made him listen to her regardless of knowing she couldn’t be trusted. That was why he turned around that day, when she called to him with one of the most mocking tones. He cringed every time she called him “Zuzu” but couldn’t bring himself to think of a nickname to get back at her.

“I know your secret,” she said, almost singing as she approached him. Zuko whipped around to look at her, his eyes wide in alarm. There were countless things he hadn’t told her and there was no way to guess which one she was going to say, so he said nothing. If it was a trap, he refused to be tricked into exposing himself in any regard. Unfortunately, it was not a trap, and he was not safe. “I heard our tutors talking and they said that you like _boys_.”

His heart nearly leapt out of his chest, his breath catching in shock. It was six years since the only time he’d shown affection for a boy, which he’d convinced himself was a strong friendship and a simple misunderstanding rather than a childhood crush. There was no way their father had spoken about the conversation he’d had with Zuko about it three years prior—he said back then that he would be ashamed to have such a disgusting and disgraceful son, and never would have brought it up for fear of rumors—and to his knowledge, no one else knew of the occurrence. Which meant that their tutors had to have been referring to the letter he wrote as a child, having heard through the grapevine that he was shameful and unfit to be prince.

“I don’t like boys,” Zuko spat, clenching his hands into tight fists. His temper seemed to grow the older he got and by the time his mother disappeared, he’d begun to lose all control over it when it came to Azula. He stomped right over to his sister, his eyes narrowing with rage. “Why would they say that? It’s not true.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” It was infuriating how casual she was, just walking around the courtyard as if she hadn’t just accused him of an actual crime. Azula took a long, drawn-out breath before she said anything else, as if she were thinking though she was clearly forcing him to wait. “ _Apparently_ back when you were still in a real school, you wrote your letter of affection to a _boy_. Don’t you know that’s against the law? Dad would kill you if he found out.”

“Joke’s on you because he already knows that happened. We talked about it three years ago, and I’m still standing here, aren’t I?”

“Only because he taught you not to act on it. Better watch your step or he’ll banish you.”

“No, he won’t!” He turned back around, unable to face his sister any longer. She _lied_. She always, _always_ lied. Just because Azula thought he was in danger of being banished because of something stupid he did when he was a little kid didn’t mean anything was really going to happen. But for some reason, his heart still wouldn’t stop yelling at him and when he sat down in his bedroom, sliding against the side of his bed, he said one more whisper to himself. “He wouldn’t do that. He’s not that mean. He wouldn’t send me away. He would never send me away.”

What little Zuko didn’t know was that it _was_ going to happen, just not like that.

* * *

He was fourteen years old the fourth time someone told him it was wrong.

They’d been away from the Fire Nation for more than a year and yet he still couldn’t see out of his left eye. His vision slowly came back after the patch came off, but it was all so fuzzy that he could barely process the images he was seeing. Hearing was a struggle on that side too and while he wouldn’t admit it to his uncle or his crew, he felt vulnerable from his newfound disabilities and disliked being out in the crowds. That was the true reason it took him six months to get up the courage to go with them into the markets, though he claimed it was because he didn’t think it to be productive.

When possible, he still avoided those interactions; unable to even move properly due to his lack of depth perception and lopsided hearing and stayed back at the ship as often as he could. It wasn’t like anyone in the villages ever knew where he could find the Avatar anyway. So, the next time someone confronted him about his sexuality, the one he’d become so determined to smother, he wasn’t standing in a crowd. Instead, he was sitting on the beach with a few members of his crew, listening to their chatter as he dragged lines through the sand. No one asked why, and he didn’t answer. They didn’t have to know that he was testing how far left he could see. They didn’t have to know the reason he didn’t notice the people walking up until they’d already spoken.

Admittedly, he had no idea what the people were saying beside him. They were standing off to his left, talking to a few members of the crew. Zuko barely glanced over to register the two men speaking to his crew before he looked back to where he was drawing lines in the sand. He was having a shitty day and he didn’t want to talk to anyone, so he hoped that keeping his head down would stop them from dragging him into any conversation. But then he made the mistake of looking up and meeting the gaze of a very, _very_ pretty boy, not more than a few years older than him, and completely lost track of what he was doing. The men kept talking beside him while he stared at the boy with shiny brown hair and dark green eyes, snapping back to attention only when they said a word which made him want to hurl.

“…don’t take kindly to homosexuals.” Zuko didn’t know how the sentence began but he didn’t need to. He knew they were talking about him. “I personally won’t expose you, but I’d keep a closer eye on your boy here or else his disgusting habits are going to get you all into a load of trouble.”

Fuming, Zuko clenched his hands into tight fists and nearly leapt to his feet, stopping only when he realized that his crew members moved faster. Never in a million years would Zuko have expected what happened next to occur and he turned to get a better angle on it when the two men he was sitting with rose to their feet to fight back against the man who called him ‘disgusting’. It started with just insults, calling out the asshole for being a dick to a teenager, but got worse when he threw a punch and Zuko’s crew was forced to defend themselves with their fists. They didn’t bend, and Zuko was grateful for that. His mind was already filling with bad memories from his father and seeing someone get burned wasn’t going to help.

The fight didn’t last more than two minutes, cut off when his Uncle Iroh and the men who had gone with him returned from the market. It was Iroh who put an end to the confrontation, telling off the crew members for harming a man and then turning his attention to the other man after they revealed what provoked them. They didn’t specify that the insult directed towards Zuko was essentially ‘disgusting homosexual’, and he let out a breath of relief. He wasn’t ready to talk to his uncle about that yet, if ever.

Somehow, Iroh managed to calm everyone and gather apologies all around before nodding for Zuko to go with him back into the ship. It took the boy a second to rise to his feet, but he couldn’t resist his uncle and ended up nodding and following him back up the ramp. He wanted to look back to the man who’d attacked him, to flip him a finger and let him know that he was a fucking asshole, but his uncle wrapped an arm around his shoulders, stopping him from enacting any revenge. Zuko wanted to rip away, to fight the man anyway, but then he tripped on his way back into the boat and realized he still wasn’t ready for a real battle yet. He still couldn’t see well enough to judge where he was moving. So, instead of fighting back, he let it go.

He spent the rest of the night trying to figure out why his crew would want to defend someone like him.

* * *

He was sixteen years old the fifth time someone told him it was wrong.

The weirdest thing about the situation was not that they were in the Earth Kingdom, nor that someone took it upon themselves to call him out for being a disgrace when they knew nothing about him, but that Zuko was actually _happy_. He and Iroh were running the Jasmine Dragon, making a living for themselves in Ba Sing Se, and he even found a friend in a girl that Iroh set him up with a little after they arrived in the city (in all honesty, he wasn’t physically attracted to her, but she was sweet and funny and he really liked being her friend). He was still awkward as hell and only spoke to Jin when she came into the shop or asked him to do something first, but he was happy. Content. There was a part of him that still missed the Fire Nation, but it wasn’t as overpowering anymore.

It was one evening when Jin was in the shop and Iroh was brewing tea in the back when it happened. Zuko was just going about his daily duties, serving tea to the customers, and making small talk when they initiated it, and only stopped when he stumbled upon a particularly bitchy table. There were two women with an arrogant-looking man, who tried to order Zuko around like he was a servant and not a simple waiter. Following his fever, Zuko let go of a lot of his past rage and rarely blew up anymore, though his temper was still contained deep within him and sometimes made an appearance in front of customers such as these. Somehow, Zuko managed to hold his tongue when they demanded he remake their tea, and then heat it up twice again because they were far too slow to drink it, but he nearly lost it when he walked away from them the last time; muttering something under his breath about asshole customers.

“Excuse me?” snapped the asshole customer, one arm around each of the women at his side. “What did you just say about me?”

“I said you’re an asshole.” Zuko _knew_ he shouldn’t be saying anything, that he was probably sacrificing many customers for his poor uncle, but he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He dropped his rag onto a nearby empty table, glaring at the customers. “My uncle and I have been slaving over you for an hour and you don’t even have the courtesy to tip. You—”

“Why should I tip _you_? The only reason you even have a job is because your uncle owns this place. You know no one hires _homos_ in this city. You’re bitching about tips when you should just be grateful anyone’s willing to drink a thing you’ve touched. Come on, ladies. Let’s get out of here.”

Zuko flipped them off as they left before dropping into a nearby chair. There were only a few people left given how late it was, one of those being Jin and the others just a couple of stragglers. Thankfully, Iroh was in the back behind the curtain and didn’t see what Zuko had done. He dropped his face into his hands, sighing deeply as he tried to calm himself down enough to tend to the last of the customers. He’d done _nothing_. Since he was six years old and made one stupid decision, he’d done _nothing_. By that point he’d acknowledged that he sometimes looked at men, but he stopped himself from letting the aesthetic attraction become anything more. He showed no affection towards men, he touched no men except to defend himself, and he went on a real date with a woman (yes, they were only friends now, but that didn’t change the fact that it happened). No matter what people said, no matter how impossible it was to escape their judgment, he wasn’t into men. And yet, they wouldn’t stop.

Everywhere he went, _someone_ shot a look at him. In the market, at the tea shop, it didn’t matter. People gave him weird looks when he was doing nothing but shopping with his uncle or doing his job and suddenly, following that awful confrontation, everything made sense. The reason the people of Ba Sing Se still didn’t like him, no matter how nice he was to them, was because they thought he was _gay._ Something about him just gave off fundamentally gay vibes and once that hit him, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering just how strong those were, how long people had been noticing them, and how he could make them go away. Was it possible that when he willed the feelings out of his mind, Zuko somehow moved the expression to the outside of his body? Was that even a thing? It didn’t make sense, but he couldn’t think of any other way to explain how so many strangers assumed he was gay.

“Zuko?” It was Jin who sat down in the seat to his right, placing a hand on his forearm reassuringly. “Are you all right? That looked pretty bad.”

He wasn’t, but before he could say that, before he could admit to everything that happened and the harsh words she likely hadn’t heard from the other end of the shop, Zuko bit his tongue. In the Earth Kingdom, homosexuality was outlawed. It had been for even longer than it was in the Fire Nation. Jin was probably against it just as much as anyone else, and if he gave her a reason to believe that _he_ could be gay, he might lose the only friend he had. He forced a smile instead.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

* * *

He was eighteen years old the first time someone told him it was okay.

The entire situation started by accident, and as far as he could tell, Zuko wasn’t meant to be involved in it at all. All the members of Team Avatar—Aang, Sokka, Katara, Toph, Suki, and himself—were gathered in the Jasmine Dragon, hanging out for their first reunion in months. They didn’t all get together often but when they could, it was always the best part of the month. Zuko loved spending time with his friends and he loved being back in Ba Sing Se where he could leave his Fire Lord worries behind and just brew tea with his uncle until he was ready to go home. That was what he was doing when the conversation started. Just getting some tea for his friends while they chatted in Iroh’s apartment.

It wasn’t until after the war ended when Zuko got a chance to properly address his sexuality again. Though it was unclear during their initial relationship, everything came into question when he got back together with Mai. He loved her, he really did, but he didn’t love her more than anyone else and he felt like that was a problem. Their dates were a lot of fun and he went with her whenever he could, though he always felt uncomfortable when it got to the point where they were meant to make out. Holding hands was nice, cuddling was nice, but as soon as it came to anything more intimate or romantic, Zuko just froze. He tried to ignore it for a while, only acknowledging what he did when Mai pointed it out herself. She never hated him for it, but she never accepted it either. Zuko knew that she wasn’t mad, she’d told him that herself, but he couldn’t help but feel like she hated him. He hated himself for it too.

He spent twelve years telling himself that he could never like boys. That to even _look_ at a man for more than a few seconds was disgusting and improper. That was what he was taught growing up and that was what he was shown during his travels. There were five distinct memories that stuck out in his mind of people calling _him_ out for being gay, but he couldn’t count the number of times he’d heard people say those things about someone else. About people in general. He _knew_ that liking boys was wrong, and he couldn’t stop himself from doing it. So, instead, the moment he became Fire Lord, Zuko pushed the last of his thoughts to the side, recognizing his feelings but refusing to act on them. He despised thinking anything his father said was right, but homosexuality was outlawed for more than a century. If _he_ were gay, even if he legalized it, it would definitely cause backlash that he didn’t think he could handle.

Zuko smiled to his uncle when he finished brewing the tea, heading back to the apartment to meet with his friends. He didn’t know what he was expecting to find in there, but it wasn’t what he found. Knowing his friends, he figured they’d be doing something weird or arguing about something silly that one of them had done, and yet when he walked in, the chatter was different. It was focused. Aang was holding up a finger and going on about something while Sokka tried to interrupt him and Katara watched them in confusion. Toph and Suki were silent as well, simply observing the situation. Zuko nearly asked the girls for a recap but stopped dead in his tracks when he realized what Aang was saying.

“The Air Nomads didn’t judge people based on their orientation. They believed love was a positive thing no matter what form it came in, and that our spirits are more important than our physical bodies. Everyone was accepting of each other’s differences because they believed that to draw a line based on something so silly as gender is superficial and that love should be about the person, not…”

His hands were shaking. The teacups rattled on the tray beneath him, but he couldn’t stop it, staring at Aang in silence as he went on with his babbles. Sokka continued to try and interrupt, clearly attempting to correct him on something, though Zuko couldn’t be bothered to figure out what it was. He was too busy listening to everything Aang was saying. There was no way he was telling the truth, right? There was no nation that truly accepted or embraced gay people. The Earth Kingdom outlawed it, the Fire Nation outlawed it, and even the Water Tribe was barely tolerant though it wasn’t against the law. But the Air Nomads… they didn’t care. They didn’t care and as he glanced around the room, Zuko realized that his friends didn’t care either. They were too busy laughing at Sokka for anyone to be bothered by what Aang was saying. What everything in his past told him they should have been disagreeing with.

“Zuko? Are you all right?” It was Katara who called to him, her expression folding into one of deep concern as she slid away from her brother. He looked to her, confused as to why she was asking, and froze when she elaborated. “Why are you crying?”

The unfortunate part about holding his friends’ tea was that Zuko didn’t realize there were tears on his cheeks until she pointed it out, and with the tray in his hands, he couldn’t do anything to brush them away. They just kept falling as his friends turned to look at him, each and every one of them clearly worried about his wellbeing. But they still didn’t care about what Aang said. They weren’t phased. They weren’t grossed out. They just… _agreed_. For all those years, for two thirds of his _life_ , Zuko believed that to like boys would make him disgusting. That it would make him a traitor to the Fire Nation and a criminal around the world. That if he acted on the feelings he’d had possibly since he was six years old, no one would ever love him again. But they would. His friends would love him no matter what and so against all the things he’d learned for his entire life, all the things he’d told himself about burying his feelings, Zuko let the words slip out.

“So, I’m not—” He choked on his words, swallowing hard before he tried again. “You don't think I'm a disgrace to the nation for liking men?”

For a few seconds, no one moved, but then they gave him the biggest hug he’d ever known. Someone took the tea from his hands as they all buried him in a group embrace, smothering him with the love he was so starved for. Even Iroh somehow must’ve heard what he said because he was holding onto his nephew the tightest as the tears continued to stream down Zuko’s cheeks. He wasn’t broken. He wasn’t disgraceful. He wasn’t disgusting. He was loved. He was cared for. He was _home_.

And he never wanted to leave.


End file.
